PoMoHippy CharisMystic & LOVE ACTIVIST:
“Ministry means the ongoing attempt to put ones own search for God, with all the moments of pain and joy, despair and hope, at the disposal of those who want to join this search but do not know how.”
― Henri J.M. Nouwen

Blogging is a Moving Meditation.

BLOGGING as a MOVING MEDITATION:Liminality's thin passage untangles as it weaves, fits in the ineffable nooks and crannies of my heart's prayer wall, like the cracks in pavement, mile markers on the road, windblown whimsical napkin poems written in eyeliner.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

I was recently informed that i have “an exceptionally diverse group of friends.” I grinned and nodded knowingly, as the tone was more of a question rather than a statement.

I would agree whole heartedly and also add, if they all were at the communion table, there would be amazing bread (gluten free too), beer, wine, grape juice, water and some seriously good whisky to go along with the food fight.I also like salt on my food and that’s partially why i have a “diverse” group of Crazy & Sane, Artisans, Nerds, Atheists, Agnostics, Bi- Tri and a few Squares, Gay, Sad, Happy, Cynical, Ambivalent, Zealots, Neo+++, Musicians, Mystics, Misfits, Out-law and In-Lawed friends. (Lawed is how you say LORD with a North East accent).Though I love the flavor of Bagels, Lox, Cream Cheese, Capers, Onion, Tomato and a sprinkle of fresh Dill, it would get incredibly boring everyday.However, for the daily PB&J people, that cut off the crusts, this can be quite disconcerting. That was Peanut Butter and Jelly for those of you that thought it might be another acronym added to the LGBTQ. I guess what i’m pondering, is this "fear" of other" types or sects of Christians; that masks itself as "discernment" and causes us to distance ourselves from others in the Body of Christ.It strikes against Jesus's prayer in John 17:21, "that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me." There seems to be, particular to western Christendom, a “Sect-Xenophobia” of sorts. I felt it at the Wild Goose, 2014, a bit more so this year than the previous. Perhaps because there were more schools representing. It was the micro of the macro view on things, but it stirred up my awareness, as i attempted to answer the proverbial "what church do you go to" question.

Some might call it a Pharisaical spirit. I think it’s a bit more primal than that. It’s almost like passing a litmus test but more kin to “K-9 Tukus Sniffing”.(Think Scratch & Sniff on church name tags)My sense is that it is increasing as the fear in the world is increasing. Religious and Race wars plastered across TV & computer screens causing a hyper-vigilance of soul that exacerbates the fight or flight response. Like other creatures, humans can smell fear. There are studies on the “fear pheromone” that is released through sweat during intense stress. Some studies have linked it with group hysteria in triggering an eruption. (THAT would explain more than a few things.) How do we shift the atmosphere when we come together as the bigger Body of Christ?It got me thinking about what happens when a group of Jesus lovers, with the primary intention of LOVING THE OTHER, enter the room. Can we smell of incense so intoxicating people are overcome with such love it causes fear to flee?What does LOVE smell like? Warm bread and wine? The Spikenard of a future poured out on Jesus’s feet? Frankincense for wounds and Myrrh for scars? Does Peace smell like a duvet, fresh off the line on a spring day?

If there are pheromones for fear and love, is there a Jesus Pheromone?

Can the fragrance from Balm of Gilead calm the inflammation of fear that is causing the disunity?I think so.2 Corinthians 2:14-15But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumph in Christ, and manifests through us the sweet aroma of the knowledge of Him in every place. For we are a fragrance of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing.John 13:35-“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”I’d like to be the fragrance of Christ instead of smelling of the other religious stuff that is being shoveled. Should their be a "scratch and sniff" on this blog?Even so come Lord Jesus.

FYI-Nerd Alert:

According to the United States Department of Agriculture: "The buds of Balm of Gilead are large, brown, resinous and strong-smelling. The bark of young trees varies from cinnamon brown to green, turning gray and deeply ridged as it ages."

"Resin from the buds is antibacterial, antifungal, and mildly analgesic. Balm of Gilead resin is an ingredient in cough syrups and first-aid salves, used to heal small wounds, cuts, and scrapes."

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Found myself wandering around the Appalachian Trail listening to the squawking of a Wild Goose.

Thank you to all that made that happen!

That list is unscrupulously long and highly distinguished and you can mostly find them on the Isle of Misfit’s with the most brilliant of toys!

The intentionality of the Goose is much more than the sum of it’s presenters, vendors and performers.

It has the sense of a “home coming” of sorts. A “Next Year in Jerusalem” moving meditation for diasporic faith.

Where our desire for unity and being known in the greater cloud of witnesses dare to surface. The desire to be loved in our difference as much as we are loved in our likeness. The desire to sip from the cup of communion without hesitation of judgement or shame. The desire to honour our relationships physically, emotionally and spiritually.

These are the reasons why i came to Wild Goose.

Festival Midrash Meditations & Muse:

The journey towards the Goose was seemingly filled with emotional trip wire and i wasn’t quite sure i was gonna make it this year. Oh, it’s always a risk, isn’t it? Whilst in the process of allowing yourself to be “seen”; hyper-sensitivities & trauma triggers abounding.

When i say “home-coming” i’m also inclusively implying that sometimes prodigals are greeted with the “older-brother’s” opinions rather than the unconditional love of Abba.

I found myself wondering the implications of that whilst listening to some of Teresa Pasquale’s tent-focus of “Sacred Wounds”. Her salient thoughts on healing spiritual trauma are keenly needed.

Whenever or wherever there is “Festival” of sorts, there is always some level of unknown emotional risks factors that are going to challenge our spiritual barometer to love. That is always the High Wire Act. It’s easy to love when the wind conditions are right; with buffers and bolsters in place.

Are we going to risk the trauma trip wire ?

A Festival is far from a sterile environment so things are gonna get messy.

Perfectionistic, idealistic and utopia biases collide with mud slides, porta- potties, rainy deluge and random bits, bobs & bolts of lightning. Some of the “discussions” around the tents were a bit blustery to go along with the wind. Thank G-d for the “Beer” & the “Carnival de Resistance” TENTS, as they were communion in many situations!

There was tension on the tent poles and there is need of those stressors to keep the conversations going. How we struggle or relax into that tension is primarily how we are going to flesh out those areas where we really don’t know how to love well, or in some areas, love at all.

In retrospect i wish i had some super-power time machine ability to get to hear some of the tent-talks that i missed.

I’m thinking of Katherine Wilson’s “The Dark Side of Community” -

“What leads us to hate and fear those who are different than us? How can we build strong communities without alienating people at or beyond the borders of our group? What’s at the heart of the matter when we use polarizing “us/them” talk? Listen as Katherine Wilson shares about the ways traditional community-building often leads directly to mass violence. Based on her work in genocide prevention and reconciliation, she proposes a radical re-envisioning of the way we think about community – one that would allow us to draw those people into our circle who might otherwise most threaten our identity.”

That’s a Big Conversation that is so worth having!

I surely had a good excuse for missing that one, as it was happening simultaneously as Homebrewed Christianity & Beer-n-Hymns. Which is where you will find this Whiskatarian Mystic most days spiritually. Perhaps formulating my own band, law firm or developing a new trinitarian theology, “Spark, Snark & Song.”

I was challenged to keep my own list of “buzz” words to a minimum.

However, i cannot hold my tongue any longer on one pet phrase that i’ve heard far too much about.

If the redundancy of the phrase actually helped in the day to day Ministry of the Mundane, i think i could deal with it. Rather, it is a un-intentional/accidental reminder as to what we are NOT doing. End Kvetch.

The Wild Goose is in it’s 4th year and it feels like it.

Anything at 4 years old is still formulating its identity and prone to bandwagoning on that stage of development. Wine and Cool-aide tasting vary greatly; but don’t ask me as i can’t see through the glass from which i’m dimly drinking. i’m busy being blinded by the beer-spit mud that is in my eye, after someone got the log out of it.

There was “the” protestor. Ok, there may have been more, but i only honestly saw one. He was holding a sign in the pouring rain and shouting through a bullhorn. From my understanding, he was offered a free ticket, a space to sleep, food to eat and the opportunity to openly dialogue about his concerns. Kudos Good Goose Goers & Doers.

I think if he were an Angelic Being and we were being mindful to entertain strangers, perhaps, it was because we needed to recognize & embody our reaction, hurt and prejudice in order to deal with it.

Spiritual Independence is not the same as Spiritual Self-sufficiency. We were designed to need one another and be the Body of Christ.

One of the most hopefully challenging voices at the Goose was that of Romal Tune. His book “God’s Graffiti”, provokes to action our response, as he uses biblical parallels and parables to demonstrate how God used “high risk” youth’s as game changers.

Romal’s testimony and talent is balanced with grace and compassion. it was a pleasure getting to speak with him. I’m secretly hoping he and Harry Baker get to share some of their Spoken Word Poetry Slam skills. Urban Dictionary will have it’s own thesaurus. From a meditation standpoint, it was truly a foot-washing.

Tripp Fuller, Doug Pagitt and Brian McLaren were up to their interview/ podcast/radio show hosting antics. Always good to see Brian & Doug in their element and grateful that they keeps showing up to the table, such the wisdom of the elders!

Tripp and the “Homebrewed Christianity Podcast”- Gang, were squished and soggy under a tight tent capacity. Amy Piatt & Micky Jones, you have my kudos, blessing and sympathy!

The amount of beer loving theo-nerds were sorely underestimated in numbers and the tent pegs might want to be stretched for the next event!

Thankfully, “The Moonshine Jesus Show” was added to the Homebrewed vat of conspirators and assisted in the folly. I’m not quite sure i’d call it loquacious or liquidatious?

From my sensory-integration background, i’m thinking that some of that compressed space was good for those of us that tend to stay in our head.

My friend Stephen Roach and the musical entourage of SONGS OF WATER played on Saturday night. So good to see them. Turned into a mosh-pit of muddy wild dancers as they played! Amazing musical skill and passion. Their new CD is in the works and i DO suggest you give them a gander!

“The Carnival De Resistance” was more than a highlight at the event. For me it’s what Kingdom Circus looks like through a Kaleidoscope!

(I’m a little biased towards these types of Moving Meditation & Living Parables of Hope... as these are really at core, my people, just say’in)

Watching all the challenging dynamics of such a diverse group of people, i am astounded by the amount of work that went into such an event. Juggling agenda's are kin with parting the red sea on a practical miracle scale. There were sooooooo many that made this event happen. I am grateful to their hard work & tremendous efforts in seeing The Goose’s Wings stretched.

There were many... MANY behind the scenes!

Holly Roach and Steve Knight, again, you are such ambassadors of grace!

Rebekah Berndt, THANK YOU for the ticket and for making room for me on so many levels. Let the house parties continue! Adele, Laura, Paul, Rebekah and Julie- could not have asked for better house mates! Spiked Kombucha next time! You guys really are amazing and i’m so blessed to have gotten to hang out!

Phil Wyman, Thank you again for support and love. You need to go hang with the JONES!

Julie Clawson you are truly “a partner in crime” and a one armed bandit of Love! (had to do PART of a Dr. Who Episode title in there!) --------

My favorite Julie story - We were wandering down by the main stage and went into the “book tent”. I thought since i don’t have a copy of ANY of Julie’s books, (HINT)- i’d make a big deal by getting her to sign one!

(she still doesn’t realize that i was going to make a very BIG deal by playing the worst FAN ever and faint with her signature)

Well, that didn’t happen as i asked the lady behind the table. “Excuse me, do you have My friends book, “The Hunger Games and the Gospel”?” To which she replied, “No, we only carry Christian books here.” -

On THAT note, I’m incredibly grateful to Gareth Higgins as the Founding Director of the Wild Goose. I was sorely disappointed that i was unaware of the event in which he was shown appreciation for his work the last 4 +++years; in seeing it’s fruition.

I’m guessing i need to read the Event Brochure more closely? Seriously folks, we need to do better at Honoring Pioneers!

Event curation holds it’s own place in heaven i think.

At WG2013, Gareth gave this injured hippy-chick a lift in a golf-cart, when i was recovering from a nerve injury. I didn’t know who he was at that point but was really grateful as i was in a lot of pain. Such a small thing, seemingly. However, it speaks volumes to the integrity of people when they are walking in the day to day moving meditation of simply doing what is needed, despite task and title. Gareth, thanks for leading by example.

PROPHETIC ANTENNA:

This year felt a bit different. Prior to coming to the event i was hanging out with Jesus in a prayer space and saw a Golden Egg and it being placed on a auction table instead of a nest. Little odd.

When i pressed into it a bit, this is what i felt was downloaded so to speak.

There is such gold birthed here out of love and freedom.

it’s worth cannot be counted in monetary measures.

What will be the future of that birth? Will it be loved, nurtured and protected; to be free to spread it wings and develop into it’s own identity or put up on auctioning table and sold to the highest bidder?

I’m sensing that it has to do with our priorities and how we view Worth vs. Money. I am a part of the Goose, so therefore, need to look at it as well and do my own internal checking on motives and desires.

Looking forward to the next! I always leave the Wild Goose with my love tank on full!

Friday, April 04, 2014

Thank you Peter for filming this.... such fun and adventure. One of my favorite places on the Planet!!!! Yes, this was part of the crazy journey that i was privileged to be apart of. Yes, i enjoyed the bubbly

Sunday, February 16, 2014

It has been a year since i first set off to New Zealand shores to hang with those amazing Jones!

I landed on Valentine’s Day and was met with Cheese, Wine and Crackers on Wellington Beach by Sam and Jenna.

What wonders did unfold at a Wedding of dear friends!

I had landed on the cusp of some more than trying circumstances and was struggling with grief. I was mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted, but Spiritually hopeful.

I jumped into a Mosh Pit of love with all its smooth rounded curves and sharp edges.

MAGGIE is like the TARDIS! (bigger on the inside)

Right after Jenna and Sam’s Wedding we jaunted off and wild camped on a beach for a few days. Then a more inland ride to Kerosene Creek. All sounds rather nice and orderly, however you might want to put into perspective, at least 10 others on top of an already packed 8x10 House Truck.

Tight compression with the land for expansion; allows for much integration. I think i could write a book on that aspect alone.

I slept out on the rocks on the beach with a down sleeping bag and a yoga mat one night. Wind and waves playing games with the Reticular Activating System in my brain. The temps could change rather drastically and i was astounded by the clearness of the sky. I watched the moon set over the ocean while sipping single malt in a Quaich with friends.

It blazed like some set aflame Viking Ship over the horizon. I wander there often in my mind these days.

Derek and Lela- digging d'm shades!

More than anything i think it was the beautiful terrain and the integrity depth of hearts that drew me to this amazing country.

Some of the challenging parts were not knowing exactly where we would be sleeping at night. The task of parking Maggie and being a reasonable distance from some WIFI was quite the quest.

Once the month of wedding festivities ended it was more about the day to day. Debbie diligently homeschooling and Andrew biking off to the nearest coffee shop or library that had internet. There was a frame for the day, but not a hard structure. Beds made, porridge on stove, Irish coffee already in MY hand and I’M looking for my headphones and tobacco for a hand rolled ciggy.

Considering i had a neck injury that was affecting my arm and hand, my "hand rolled" looked rather "interesting." I would get looks of "cool dude" with a sneaky smile OR i would get parents shielding their young ones from the "bad influence".

At one point we stayed with “Friends of Friends” that soon became dear Friends. Jack, Lynn, Josh, Rebekah were astounding for their abilities to Willingly and Graciously allow their back yard and house to be inundated by 10+ people they had never MET before, -FOR A MONTH. The food, music, talks, freedom, acceptance and love was a reminder and influencer to trust in the bigger love on matters.

I’m sure the neighbors “discussed it”. Bless their hearts.

I’m missing Rene’s apple fritters! It was apple everything that month. Napier will never be quite the same. Taradale i know your sacred lands. (thanks to Josh!)

yes, that's Josh, Jenna and Sam.

PETER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Since inclement weather was indicative of questionable solar power, our nights often consisted of candle light and head torches by which to read. I will always now hear “Black Beauty” as read by a German. (thank you Coco! Your English is perfect!) As nights were pretty cold, Debbie or Rene would make hot malted milk. (i turned mine into a Hot Toddy) We seemed to have an endless AMOUNT of malt, since Andrew mistakenly (A.D.D moment) filled the “olive oil” gallon container.

HI COCO!There were pillow fights and arguments over where “such and such” had gotten. Debbie would then get the Cleaning Glint in her eye. The way to solve all house truck issues was to order and straighten everything and sure enough the said “such and such” would be found after an hour. Since things got “eaten by Coco” or “lost” often, we often would see her gleeful glint. Many people sleeping and eating in the same space can be a bit challenging. The key is Choosing it and thankfully they chose too to be a part of my transitioning in tight spaces.

My sleeping nook behind the cab.

Solar permitting, there were movie nights. A big white sheet was put up in the middle of Maggie separating the kitchen from the lounge and we would most literally PILE in and under blankets with various munchies. Rene and i would take the girls to pick them out. Usually this also entailed “Fish and Chips” with the quest of finding the most lush in town. If we were cooking, the discussion by Andrew as to the “proper way” to do such and such ensued; answered with “get the hell outta the kitchen, i’m cooking.” (via me)

Thanks to the incessant rain I now know most of the songs from Les Miserables by heart; with Hannah and TJ in stereo. That week the rain caused us to be lake “IN” property. I would have said lake “FRONT” property but Andrew had to build a MOAT! (i should have pics here as it WAS quite humorous.)

There were big outpourings of grace. (much of which extended towards me as i was waxed and worn more than thin from waining circumstances- thank you Andrew and Debbie! I KNOW you loved BIG)

The day to day was filled with Latin phrases and binomial nomenclature; homeschooling is not for the faint of heart. Above my bed was a collage in latin that described the “joy of the vine”.

The collage was to my left- My Suitcase was my headboard. Debbie wanted to go on a museum expedition in Wellington. After much to do with parking Maggie, we set off. It was there that Tamara boldly walked up to the receptionist and asked if there were any books on the “binomial nomenclature”. Stunned and a bit gobsmacked the dear woman looked more than perplexed and a bit disheveled, quietly said, “l’ll see”.

(yes, that's Tamara!)

( that was at Devil's gait)

Well, we did “see”. The fact we were living on a rift of fire with active volcanic movement beneath our feet, to the earthquake exhibit that reinforced most of NZ PTSD population. (post traumatic stress disorder)

I was reminded that “safe” is relatively subjective.

Tomorrow is not promised and i had time traveled To Tomorrow on my way to Today.

Living on the “end of the earth” or at least “middle earth” tends to come with its own mental landscapes and perspectives.

I had come to the land where giving “Paua” was a high honor and a token of friendship.

A place where looking for free wood and pine cones for kindling was common place.

A place where i came to appreciate baby wipes and panty liners.

A place where a fire bath was wonderful and skinny dipping in hot pools provided healing.

A place i was naked and unashamed.

Does that sound a bit too good to be true? It came with the daily dose of vigilant prayer against a spirit of homicide as to NOT kill the person that pounced on me to greet my day.

Rene tied TJ up with her own Elven Rope! We EVENTUALLY untied her.

The very first light when Debbie was all a wonder with ideas and plans and all Andrew could think of is “where is my dam coffee”.

The hand crank coffee grinder demanded my attention and i would stumble out of my sleeping cocoon and begin the task of circulatory movements; that i was reminding myself was good for a shoulder injury. Walking to the showers on the cold mornings in Motueka, tooth brush already in moving meditation, watching the parachuters sailing like lollypops in the sky. The horse jumping on weekends when the “trailer park” became a multi-function play ground of beast riders and para-sailers.

Wally the Weka

Just down the road was the oldest “intentional community” in NZ, that toted “fresh Cows milk” to its many little wonders.

Stories from a couple that “boated” here and does Bodywork to Woodworking for a living.

It’s rich with people living outside of “said norms”.

Living with the Jones birthed Permission to do it DIFFERENTLY.

It’s not like that was a hard labor for me. I’ve known for a few decades that living in relationship and intentionally navigating the rough patches, was really what living is about. Those said “rough patches” were quite like the terrain in which i traveled. Big vision, large mountains, sharp drops and not so clear out comes!

There are many things i think i would have done differently.(Especially over the last few years!)

Hindsight is 20/10 not 20/20 and on that crystal clear note; it’s hard to say “what” i would have done differently.

Different, is part of who i am and they embraced it and further, encouraged it.

Life in a different culture and rhythms grates against my apparent Americanisms.

In some places i was the “brash American” with large verbs, descriptors and omnipresence of expectation in its wake.

SEEING myself as “other” as i was re-discovering who i am is quite the unmasking.

Thankfully, that came in the form of living with 4 Germans for a bit. It was made apparent that American’s have an affinity for placing Germans as bad guys in movies. I had drawn accustomed to my own myopia and was in dire need of spit and mud in my eyes.

Funny, how you can see your own preferences and leanings in day to day situations. Rene humming “American woman” as we were walking down a street looking for a good beer or coffee shop! Thank you Rene, Coco, Lela and Peter!!!!

Rene! Loved worshiping with you!

“Op Shopping” was kin to panning for gold and Jenna and Sam are stellar at looking into second hand goods; that “could be” cool if “re-furbed” sufficiently.

Key to Travel: take what is necessary but buy local as well as second hand things whist in country. Promote local economy and save baggage fees. (now if i could only do that emotionally!)

There are a lot of memories to unpack and re-venture in my minds eye and visceral soul space. Coming back was harder than i thought on every level.

Now it’s time to re-sort and re-evaluate what is in the here and now. I time traveled back into the past on the re-entry.

Pack my bags, its time for another trip. Part two of this little adventure coming shortly. Actually, there is probably 3-4 more posts that could be written! Thank you Andrew & Debbie, Sam & Jenna, Lizzy, Abigail, Gwennie, Tamara, Peter, Rene, Lela, Coco, Josh, Robert, Chavez, Jane, Karen, Jack & Lynn, Rebeka,Tim, Keith, Menschen, John, Tony & Christine, Derek, and and and and and and.... i know there are more!